


a peach and a cigarette

by bxrnes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, ca:cw
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Short One Shot, idk why im obsessed with this fruit thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:03:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7055518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bxrnes/pseuds/bxrnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>old man barnes doesn't know what the fuck a mechanical pencil is</p>
            </blockquote>





	a peach and a cigarette

“ _Mulțumesc_.”

 

The vendor shoved the bag of fruits back into Bucky’s hands and moved away, reaching out to accept money from the next customer.

 

Peaches.

He tried to avoid peaches, but he couldn’t help himself this time. He has no self control, really. They had looked so soft, and so sweet. Like-

 

Anyways. Peaches. Bucky cursed himself inwardly, pulling his backpack off and dropping the fruit in, only to huff and move all his shit around to make sure they wouldn’t get crushed. He zipped it up and shouldered it again, heading towards the more important booths on the street.

He ended up going home with 2 new pencils and some chocolate bars, and a big bag of rice. Easy. And of course, the 2 peaches. The pencils were generic, the kind you need to sharpen. He writes so much his fingers cramp, and he’s gotta switch to his left, which is not good for the pencils. They break _real_ easy.

“You-gottabefucking-kidding me.” He muttered, groaning as he dropped a snapped pencil. He pushed a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes and leaned back, running his hand down his face. Fine. Pencil's are cheap. He'll just buy more.

Tossing his book onto the end of his bed, he unfolds his legs and stands up, eyeing the fruit on the counter. Making his way over to the kitchen, he snags his bag and drops it on the table, digging through until he finds a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. 

He lights one up and takes a drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs and cloud his head. He breathes out, and it swirls around his face and clings to his hair. He grabs his peach. And he walks back to his bed and sits down, cigarette in one hand, and peach in the other.

He takes a drag. Exhales. And then takes a bite.

 

See, a peach and a cigarette, obviously, are two very different flavors. Cigarettes taste like the war. They taste like misery. They remind Bucky that Steve isn't around, and hasn't been for a while, remind him because he never smoked around Steve, not with his weak lungs and judgmental eyes whenever he came home smellin' like one. "Those can kill you, you know." He would say, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows.

"Stevie, just one can't hurt. C'mon, you know I only do it around the guys." (The guys being the men at the docks, who would thrust a pack with one stickin' out towards Buck, who would accept it silently and lean forward for a light.) He would reach out towards Steve and pull him and ruffle his hair, saying the same thing he always did. "Last one pal, they taste like shit- _Buck!-_ anyways."

 

A peach, on the other hand.

 

Tastes like Steve. 

 

God, they were poor back then. They were so poor they couldn't even afford  _shoes_. 

 

But Steve loved peaches. And Bucky ~~loves~~  loved Steve. So he would scrape together what little money he had, and buy two. Sometimes, they would both be bruised. When that happened, he would just unfold his pocketknife and cut out the brown mushy parts. But if only one was, he would take that one for himself. 

Steve would always grab it from Bucky's hand, and immediately press it to his face to smell it. Deep inhale. Then, eyes twinkling, he would take the biggest bite, one that he knew was gonna make the juice run down his chin. And he would laugh. Throw his head back and laugh, sweet and clear. Bucky would watch him laugh, and as always, lean forward to wipe the juice off with one of their few hand towels. Steve always savored his peach. Bucky ate his at a normal pace, but Steve-fucking-Rogers could make his last. And he never failed to make a mess out of it, too. 

 

So that's what Bucky did. Mouth still bitter with smoke, he took the biggest bite possible, and tilted his head up as the juice started to flow. The two flavors together were. Not great. But not horrible. Chew. Swallow. Drag off the cigarette.

Combining the good and the bad, just to remind him that he can have the good, but only half-assed good that's laced with bad.

This continued until he killed his cigarette, and all that was left was a few bites of peach. He flicked his the butt into his ashtray (a pop can cut in half) and finished his peach, walking slowly towards the sink to wash up. He stopped with his hand hovering over the faucet handle, and considered eating another, this time without the foul coat of nicotine and tobacco in his mouth. And why would he wash his hands if he's just going to the get them messy again?

 

So he did. He smelled smoke with every bite, but it tasted better alone. Well, not really. 

It tasted better without the poison, is what he meant. He finally finished it off and sat down again, his hand no longer aching and his pencil freshly sharpened. And he started to sketch. The lines were rough, and they were smudged, but they still looked good. The cleanest lines were the hands, one clutching a half eaten peach and the other near his face, to make it look like he was in the middle of laughing. It was a good drawing.

 

He bookmarked it with a folded photo, creases worn down from being opened and refolded so many times. With a scoff, he stood up and set the book down, setting the candy from his jacket pocket on top for later. He shrugged his backpack back on and quickly left to do some work. And maybe buy a new pencil.

 

His little peach episode had left him a little dizzy. So, he bought plums at the market a couple hours later instead.

**Author's Note:**

> i really like the fruit scene. it made me cry.


End file.
